


Glitter and Gleam

by HyperKid



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caleb in a tux, Drama, Found Family, Other, mentions of abusive asshole, no one likes it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 09:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17383973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperKid/pseuds/HyperKid
Summary: Caleb has to wear a tux. No one likes it. But if the Nein need to get all prettied up for a mission, better that it’s this one.





	Glitter and Gleam

**Author's Note:**

> HK: I was given a prompt, this was entirely out of my control!   
> Mollymauk: You sit on a throne of lies.   
> HK: You’d know, you made the throne. Anyway, second chapter of All I Want For Critmas is fighting me a little but I think it’ll be up next week!   
> Mollymauk: With only one distraction, so that’s nice.   
> HK: yeah well I had a horrible fright about losing my writing spoons so this is legit. It was supposed to be silly fun but then Beau decided there was an actual mission.   
> Mollymauk: That keeps happening. It’s probably Caleb’s influence. 
> 
> WARNINGS!! Caleb has a lot of issues, Jester has a dirty mind 
> 
> Disclaimer: I still own nothing, but I’d happily accept the rights for my birthday next week if anyone can swing that?

Caleb adjusted his sleeves so that they lay just above his cuffs and forced himself to look in the mirror. The man looking back didn’t look like him, not anymore. 

 

For one thing, he was clean shaven. Not just barbarian-with-a-broadsword shaven either, but with a razor. Clean shaven, and clean. The latter wasn’t so unusual anymore, but without the covering of hair and dirt he looked at least ten years younger. 

 

He turned away from the mirror quickly, not wanting to see the man his reflection had become. 

 

“What do you think?” He asked a little nervously. Fjord, stuffed into a tuxedo of his own but looking a damned sight happier about it, cocked his head to one side and shrugged. 

 

“It’s a good suit,” he conceded, a trace of hesitance in his voice. “Very form fitting.” 

 

Caleb made a face. He was well aware of that, the cloth tugging close about him at his waist and thighs. It was fashion, and one he could appreciate on other people. 

 

He might have been more comfortable walking into the ballroom naked. At least then he’d have some ball room of his own. 

 

He raised a hand to brush some hair across his face, at least that much of a curtain against the world, but stopped when he touched the tightly drawn back ponytail. A sigh punched its way out of him. 

 

“I feel like a show pony.” 

 

A smile tugged at the corner of Fjord’s lips as the half orc stepped forward, fixing Caleb’s bowtie with a slightly proprietorial air. 

 

“You look good,” he assured the wizard with a quick nod. Caleb deliberately didn’t glance at the mirror. 

 

He knew what he looked like. He looked like a murderer. 

 

“Let’s just get this over with,” he sighed. 

 

A knock at the door preceded Caduceus. Both Caleb and Fjord let out a little envious huff at the sight of him. There wasn’t a tailor in the Empire who made tuxedos big enough for firbolg, even skinny little shits of firbolg. 

 

Caduceus had gotten away with his normal white tunic, laundered and pressed, and a pair of loose fitting black trousers borrowed from Pumat Sol. In deference to the occasion he had allowed Jester and Nott to brush his hair out and slick it back into a ponytail the same as Caleb’s. 

 

The bastard looked comfortable. Relaxed and ready to recline on a couch with a drink in hand. 

 

Fjord’s pants were tight enough across his ass that Caleb was pretty sure he’d need help standing if he did sit. Not that the view wasn’t a lovely distraction. 

 

“They’re waiting for you,” Caduceus said softly. Caleb could feel that ever perceptive gaze washing over him. Over his face to the rock solid lines of his shoulders. 

 

Just let him not ask until the evening was done. By then Caleb would surely have some lie worked out. 

 

The wizard nodded stiffly, taking a few steps towards the door before freezing. Through that door, pomp and circumstance waited. The kind of flashy event he’d dreamed of attending all through his childhood. 

 

He’d been terrified the first time too. A small town boy with no idea of how to behave. Afraid of saying the wrong thing, stepping the wrong way, trying to dance with Astrid and tripping her up. 

 

He hated that he felt the same way now. 

 

A blur of colour pushed past Caduceus and then the room was filled with all the Nein, Beau and Jester and Nott and Yasha hurrying in. They all stopped dead in the doorway, staring at each other in undisguised shock. 

 

Beau had stuck to blue as was her wont, and had abused the name of the Cobalt Soul to get into an outfit rather like Caduceus’. The lighter blue tunic was sleeveless, the navy trousers loose enough for her to move freely if needed. 

 

Her greatest concession to the occasion was her blue sash, tied across her torso instead of around her waist. Even her hair was the same as normal. 

 

Nott had disguised herself for the evening as a slender halfling girl with long dark hair. She’d drawn her crossbow when even attending the event had been suggested; no one tried to insist she wear her own skin. 

 

But her proportions were all the same, and the deep green velvet dress would fit her just as well in her own shape, if she ever wanted to wear it again. Tiny golden flowers were embroidered along the hem and long, deep sleeves that Caleb was sure would be filled with buttons and knickknacks stolen throughout the evening. 

 

It was a good dress, and with the little golden flowers braided into her hair, she looked sweet and beautiful. The way she’d want to see herself if not how the others thought of her. 

 

Yasha looked almost as uncomfortable as Caleb felt; without a prominent establishment to hide behind, she had been forced into a dress. The charcoal grey silk somehow softened her strong, muscular lines, clinging to her bust and swirling loose around her hips to her ankles. 

 

She could still use her sword in it, they all knew for a fact. She hadn’t tried anything on that she couldn’t take a slash in. 

 

Jester and Nott had wheedled her into letting them do her hair as well. In deference to her own style, they had stuck to the little individual braids, but added tiny silver bells to the ends. The result was a faint musical jingle with every movement that, combined with the dress, made the pale woman seem more unearthly than usual. 

 

Somehow Jester still looked the most comfortable, a pretty deep blue dress hanging off her shoulders and exposing her cleavage before slinking down her legs. Her skirt was the tightest, but a long slit exposing a mile of blue leg meant she could still kick someone in the ear if necessary. 

 

Diamonds sparkled around her neck like stars, ready for an emergency, and her horns were hung in chains and the same silver bells as Yasha. 

 

She was the one who broke the silence, as always. Taking another step into the room, she clapped her hands cheerfully. 

 

“You look good enough to eat, Caleb!” She called, and Caleb felt his cheeks flush. That sly purple gaze flicked over to Fjord, her lip curling just enough to expose a hint of fang. “You both do.” 

 

The half orc spluttered, not sure how to accept such a lasciviously loaded compliment. Caleb was busy counting the bells on her horns, doing his best to keep focused. He barely noticed the slight frown on her face until she stepped closer, disrupting the count. 

 

“Caleb?” 

 

“What is it, Jester?” He asked, forcing his gaze back to her face. Damn but her eyes were sharp too, tracking every line the same way Caduceus had. Unable to meet her gaze, Caleb looked past her. 

 

Beau and Nott were watching him too, the same puzzled intensity in their faces. They had the best chance of guessing. 

 

Only Yasha wasn’t watching him now. Clearly deeply uncomfortable in the whole situation, she was staring longingly out a window at the cloud free sky. 

 

Probably wishing for a storm to call her away. Caleb would gladly follow. 

 

Before him, Jester sighed, one hand coming up to cup his cheek and turn his head this way and that. Caleb didn’t bother resisting. 

 

“I don’t know,” she said at last, taking a step back and brushing off her hands absentmindedly, “it just doesn’t look right.” 

 

That was close enough to his own thoughts to recapture Caleb’s attention. 

 

“What do you mean?” He asked, brows drawing down into a frown. Jester sighed again, her fingers finding their way to the symbol of the Traveler at her waist. 

 

“You don’t look right in fancy clothes and all polished up,” she explained, turning the symbol over and over in her fingers. “I thought it would be fun but even your smelly old coat is better.” 

 

“More like you,” Beau agreed, and flushed when all eyes turned to her. “Not that I think you’re gross or smelly,” she added quickly, both hands raised. 

 

A tiny smile tugged its way to Caleb’s lips. 

 

“Somehow I think we both know that’s not true,” he managed to tease. He even managed a step towards the door. “I know you still think of me as the stinky garbage man.” 

 

“I do not!” Beau protested, taking a halfhearted swing at his arm. It still hurt, but the pain helped. Helped to ground him. 

 

A small hand slipped into his other hand and he looked down to see Nott, wide brown eyes watching him carefully. He showed her the smile, hoping it helped. 

 

There was a visible release of tension as their eyes met, and she smiled back. He remembered her uncertainty the first time they’d gone for a bath together; she’d been looking for him under the layers again. 

 

A much larger hand settled on his shoulder as Caduceus moved up behind him. 

 

“I think what Miss Jester means is that you look far too stiff in all these layers,” the large man said slowly. Just ahead Jester let out an unladylike snort, shoulders shaking. Caduceus ignored her. “Your baggy layers seem a lot more you.”  

 

“Well, we couldn’t all get away with it,” Caleb mumbled, fixing his gaze on the back of Jester’s head. With any luck, she’d keep moving and it would take all night to count the damned bells. 

 

Jester could usually be relied upon not to keep still. 

 

Caduceus glanced down at his own garb and chuckled softly. 

 

“Perhaps if you’d worn wizard’s robes you could have something a little more comfortable?” He suggested. Felt Caleb’s whole body stiffen under his hand. 

 

Fortunately Fjord cut in with a loud protest, hurrying to follow. 

 

“And leave me the only one in a damn penguin suit? No way. I, at least, appreciate your sacrifice,” he declared loudly, slapping Caleb on the back as he caught up. 

 

He’d have to tell them all some day, Caleb knew, letting an exaggerated wince carry him from under Caduceus’ hand. Maybe tonight, if things went according to plan. For now, it was enough that they didn’t care. They were willing to help him anyway. 

 

“Alright,” Beau called from the front, clapping her hands and turning to face them in front of the ballroom doors. She was shaping up into quite the leader, given room to grow. “We remember what we’re here for?” 

 

The Nein nodded obediently, a few murmured assents over the soft music from the room beyond. Beau knew better than to believe them. 

 

“We’re here for the gossip. Find out where Trent lives,” her gaze shifted to Caleb for a moment, tension and worry and anger combining into a shiver. 

 

“Sorry,” she said quickly, looking away to cover the moment. Caleb considered hugging her. “I’m really not over that fucking suit. It’s unnatural. Anyway!” 

 

She punched her hand, forcing them both back to the moment. 

 

“We find out where Trent lives, we find out what guards he has, we find out what packages he gets delivered.” 

 

“We know, Beau,” Jester cut in impatiently, bouncing on her toes. Strappy silver heels should have been impeding her, but they didn’t seem to be. “We find out all the details and we make a proper plan so that when we get this guy there’s no mistakes. We know!” 

 

“It bears repeating,” Caleb muttered, his gaze fixed firmly on her ankles. “We are not the most organised group.” 

 

A round of soft chuckles did a little to dispel the tension. 

 

“And we keep Caleb and Nott out of the light,” Beau said firmly, calling attention back to her. “We don’t want any inconvenient questions.” 

 

Jester giggled and spread her arms wide, twirling on the spot. 

 

“I know! That’s why we have meeeee, to steal all the attention!” 

 

“And me,” Caduceus agreed with a slow nod. “I think we’ll be oddities enough to hold anyones’ focus.” 

 

“And if not, I can knock over a cake stand!” Jester chirped happily, her tail flicking behind her. 

 

Beau nodded at the two of them and pointed to Fjord. 

 

“And Fjord, you stick to Trent like glue. I don’t want him going anywhere tonight without you. Got it? Bug him about the academy until he fuckin’ leaves just to get away from you.” 

 

Fjord saluted, making a face as the tight jacket tried to stifle the movement. 

 

“Yes ma’am.” 

 

Beau surveyed their faces one more time, then nodded and stuck her hand into the middle of the group. 

 

“Remember, we’re fuckin’ war heroes. There’s nothing in this room that we can’t handle.” Her gaze lingered on Caleb’s face until he forced himself to meet it. There was something burning in her eyes and as he looked at her, he could feel a little of it moving into him too. 

 

They could do this. 

 

He may not be able to turn back time, not yet at least, but this? Oh, they could burn this man to the ground. He’d do anything for that. Even wear this damned suit. 

**Author's Note:**

> HK: I don’t know if this is being continued or staying as a stand alone snippet, but either way I wanted something to tide you over while I wrestle through Critmas <3 be good!


End file.
